My Shake Weight Brings All the Boys to the Yard
by americalovesthecockpit
Summary: CRACKY UKUS! America uses a Shake Weight to train for the Olympics. And we all know what THAT looks like. England sure does, so America comes up with a stupid but sexy plan to cost England his medals after he learns a secret from other countries ...


_So I've written about the Snuggie and the ShamWow, and now the Shake Weight. As long as this country keeps making stupid inventions, I will never run out of fic ideas! For those of you who aren't familiar with the Shake Weight, I recommend taking a quick gander at their commercial on YouTube. You won't regret it because it's all kinds of lulzy._

_As for this fic, it's very silly and cracky though I actually have something almost like a plot in this one. But of course there's some naughty stuff toward the end ;)_

_America's POV!_

X

So there I was, sitting on a beanbag chair, directly in front of the TV, watching SpongeBob, eating Dunkaroos. You know? Those cookies that come with the icing with the sprinkles, and you dip your cookies in it? So good hhgghhh …

They're a perfect dessert to eat after twelve Lunchables packs in a row! God I love them things. With the little crackers and you put the little ham and cheese slices on them and wash it down with Capri Sun? MMMYEAH. How about the pizza ones? You put the cheese on the crackers with the tomato sauce and pretend it tastes like pizza instead of crackers with tomato sauce and cold cheese? SO GOOD OH YES.

Never mind those things come with their own desserts. Psssh. Like one tiny chocolate Crunch bar was gonna fill me up. _Nestle please!_

"Hahaha!" I LOL'd. "SpongeBob, you sure like Krabby Patties! Pfft, you silly little guy."

I was really uncomfortable which doesn't make sense. I was sitting in a beanbag chair. They're comfy! I was like really sinking pretty deep into it too. No, it was my waist. So chafing! Jeez! What, did my jeans shrink in the wash? ! Friggin' Snuggles Bear … you lying bastard …

So I stopped shoveling the Dunkaroos in my mouth for a minute. So that I had my hands free to undo the top button of my jeans. "Aahh …" I said as I popped it. It was better … but still felt tight. "Crap! How much did these jeans shrink? !" Good thing no one was around, because I had to actually unzip some to relieve that chafing pressure. Then something awful happened!

A roll of fat popped out of my jeans!

Yep, a bit of pudge just flopped out as I unzipped. And hung over the top of my jeans.

Sorry Snuggles Bear … I guess it wasn't your fault after all. My jeans hadn't shrunk. My belly had gotten bigger! D:

It was just one roll, but still, I suddenly felt like a fatty. Like I had a damn tire around my waist. NOT COOL! Heroes don't have pudge! You never saw Superman tucking in a gut, or rolls in Batman's costume. Just villains like fatty Penguin!

"Whyyyyyy? !" I sobbed as I stuffed more Dunkaroos in my mouth. "Whyyy have I gained weight? How could this have happened? !" I shoveled more rainbow sprinkle icing-covered cookies in my mouth. "It doesn't make sense!"

I kept eating to console myself as I tried to figure this mystery out. But more importantly, I needed to figure out how to get the weight off. Because, you guys, the Olympics were only a few weeks away! The 2012 Summer Olympics in London. I couldn't go compete so chubby it looked like I had a baby bump! I'll be the laughing stock of the world, and they'll call me names like lardass and chubsy wubsy and Pillsbury Dough Boy and poke me in the tummy and I'll go "whoo hoo!"

Noooo! I don't want that! I wanna look good in my bathing suit! And we gotta wear Speedos for the swimming events. Speedos, you guys! I'm not gonna look very good with a fat roll falling over my itty bitty bathing suit, am I?

This sucked :(

Then something gloriously coincidental happened! A commercial on TV came on that made me go :O

It was for the most epic of exercise tools ever created: The Shake Weight.

Let me describe it to you. It's an object you hold in front of you with both hands. It's long (like a foot or so, I dunno, I didn't measure it, LOL) and a couple inches thick. It was shaped like … umm … uh … something.

Anyway! It has a nob on each end. You grip it in the middle and, on the shaft — er, the middle, and SHAKE. You move your arms up and down, and the Shake Weight slides up and down. It slides like … uh … well crap, do I gotta describe everything for you? ! Stop being so lazy and look it up on youtube yourself!

If you do, you will probably be mesmerized like me. Seriously. I don't know why, it was the weirdest thing, but I couldn't look away. I was like in a trance. Staring like O_O

I mean, I guess it had to be because it was so awesome. And the _perfect_ solution to my problem. Nope. Couldn't think of any other reason, as I stared hardcore as these men pumped up and down, sliding and working it, their muscles flexing …

Ahem. Anyway, yep, it was the perfect thing for me! Fast, easy, and fun way to work out! That way I could be in shape for the Olympics. OH JOY! I was jamming for the phone. If I ordered now, I got a Shake Weight "Get Loose" DVD, a forty-five dollar value, mine free! LOL "Get Loose." Lulzy title, am I right? If you know what I mean. (HURR HURR.)

I placed my order and sat back down in my beanbag chair. Back to those yummy Dunkaroos! :D

X

It was almost Olympics time. I came early and was in England. I mean the actual country, not the guy, LOL.

I came early to make sure I was all settled and used to the jet lag and stuff before the games started. Plus, I'm America. Gotta make appearances! I always rock the Olympics. Other countries are jealous of how much I win. I always take home more medals than there are in the periodic table of elements. BOOYAH!

I went to one of the official Olympic gyms to train. Had to scope out where I'd be competing, ya know? And more importantly, the competition.

Pffft. My 'competition' was England, sitting in short shorts and a t-shirt. On a bench too. I just noticed the short shorts first, LOL. He was in the gym lifting little hand weights.

"Yo, England," I said as I approached him. "Pfft, nice shorts."

He looked up at me with a weird look. "What the hell are _you_ wearing? It's summer. Why are you wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants?"

I shrugged. "Because I sweat? Duh, England! That's what happens when manly men train!"

It was actually because I wanted to cover my pudge. Don't tell England that, you guys. I did NOT want him seeing! Oh and also I couldn't fit into my shorts anymore. In fact, I couldn't even fit into my regular jeans anymore. It is such a depressing feeling going to the store to buy new fat pants one size up because you gained weight, am I right? At least Wal*mart never judges me …

And don't you judge me neither! I used that Shake Weight EVERY night after I got it! It made my arms stronger. Like hella stronger. I was ripped! But it did nothing for my belly fat. I tried for so long to figure out how that happened. Why it didn't work right for me. I sat around, eating many chocolate chip pancake-wrapped sausages on a stick (real product, by the way. And real good. Jon Stewart knows what I'm talking about) while I pondered this issue. And I couldn't come up with _anything!_ It was indeed a mystery.

"It's weird to see you lifting weights," I said to England. "You only work out right before the Olympics, don't you? HAHA lame."

"Shut up or I'm throwing one of these weights at you."

"HAHA! I'd like to see you try! You look like you're straining just to lift, twiggy arms!"

"Hmmph." England kept curling the weight toward him and back. "It will be discus practice."

"Here's a diss for you." I threw down my duffle bag and started looking through it. "I'm gonna show you what a REAL man's arms look like!" Hehe, BUUUUUURN!

I pulled out my Shake Weight. Yep, I brought it with me! I knew it'd be a good idea.

England raised one of his big ol' eyebrows. "What the hell is that?"

"You'll see!" I said excitedly. I gripped it in the middle and started pumping it. It bounced up and down between the nobs.

England suddenly froze.

"Pretty cool, right?" I asked. "Haha, you jelly? This is a MAN'S exercise."

Dude. England looked so weird! He was like in a trance, just like when I first saw the Shake Weight commercial! I guess it's just such a cool product it has that effect on people, ya know? He looked mesmerized.

"It's a good workout," I said proudly, pumping hard. "You can really feel it."

England suddenly dropped his weight. It hit the ground with a THUMP! His mouth hung open.

"I see you like it, England. You're so jealous I got this to train with and you don't," I said. "I don't think you're ready for this jelly, haha!"

Suddenly England shook himself. "Th-that's your workout routine?"

"Yep!" PUMP PUMP PUMP. "Do it every night!"

"What a stupid invention … y-you look ridiculous."

Why were his cheeks getting a little pink like that?

"Nope! I look COOL!"

PUMP PUMP PUMP.

England rolled his eyes. "Don't you realize what it looks like you're doing?" Yeah, his cheeks were getting really pink for some reason …

"Yeah! Getting a really good workout!" PUMP PUMP PUMP!

"Heh." England must be pretty weak. He was all flustered looking just from lifting a few weights? ? What a pussy! "That's not what I meant."

I looked away from that thing bouncing in my face to look at England. "What did you mean then?"

England wiped a bit of sweat away from his forehead with a towel. "Y-you really don't know?"

PUMP PUMP PUMP

"Uh … I guess not?"

England smirked. "Never mind then. Please. Continue your workout."

What a weirdo. He just sat there relaxing on the bench watching me. Like it was a show or something! And the way he watched me as I kept pumping was really weird. Just smirking. Like leering or something. He even licked his lips at one point! It was creepy!

After a couple minutes of this weirdness, I saw him shift on the bench. Then he covered his lap with the towel.

I looked up to face him again. "… England?"

"Oh, don't let me distract you. Please keep going." When I stood there looking confused, his tone got all stern. "I said _keep going_."

"Umm …" I stopped and threw the Shake Weight back in my duffle bag. "Actually, I think I'm done. Um, yeah. I'm done for today."

England's gigantic eyebrows raised. "Oh? Finished already?"

I looked away. This had gotten really weird for some reason … "Yep. Guess I'll just leave now …" … before this gets any weirder …

"Shame," said England. "I think you know what I mean."

"… no?"

"I suppose I'll have to take care of it myself then." England stood, still holding the towel over his lap. "Goodbye, America."

I waved awkwardly. "… bye?"

England went to the bathroom. And didn't come out for like ten minutes.

Weird :I

I mean, not that I counted or anything. Because I was jamming out of there! I needed to leave before his weird ass came back out. And so I did, trying to hide my face with my hand as I headed toward the door. Because I knew other countries had been staring at us …

Aaaaawkwaaaaard …

:/

X

"PSSSSSSH!"

That's what I said to myself that night in the hotel. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, having been all creeped on and all. But after shoving my hand in a jar of Nutella and shoveling that delicious goodness in my mouth, I felt a lot better.

"Mmm, yeah," I said, licking it off my fingers. "You never judge me, do you , Nutella?"

No. Nutella did not.

"What was with England today?" I asked my special nutty friend. "He was staring so hardcore at me. I mean, it was almost like, sexual. But that can't be, can it?"

Nutella didn't respond with anything except being awesomely delicious.

"Then again," I said to it. "I was staring pretty hardcore when I first saw the Shake Weight on the commercial too. I guess it just has that effect on people."

That's when it hit me.

"OH MY GOD!" I yelled triumphantly. "That's it! Oh, Nutella! I know how to win the Olympics!"

I flopped back on the bed, cuddling the Nutella jar to my face. "Hehe, listen to my plan!" I said, snuggling my delicious friend. "Everyone gets distracted when they see the Shake Weight, right? Like it puts them in a weird trance. Well, what if I did that while everyone was training? Then they'd be distracted, not get their training done, so they'll suck during the games! But of course_, I_ will get my training done, because I will be using the Shake Weight. IT'S GENIUS!"

It truly was, you guys. There was no way this wouldn't work!

(And if you started thinking of ideas how this wouldn't work just because I said that, you suck and don't tell me them.)

"Come on, Nutella," I said, hopping off the bed. "Let's go find some Nutter Butters to dip you into. God, that is gonna taste so friggin' good …. mmmmm …"

X

There they were. My biggest competitors. China, Russia, and Germany – them along with England, are always my biggest competition in the Olympics. But I had a plan, hehe …

How perfect! China, Russia, and Germany were all training so close to each other! All lifting weights and getting sweaty and being manly (well, as manly as China can be. I have my doubts, but that is for a different story!). Pssh, who needs all that when you got the Shake Weight? So stuck in the past … those poor backass countries.

"Yo," I said, getting their attention. I dropped my duffle bag to the floor loudly. The three of them looked my way. SHOW TIME :D "Y'all seen my newest training tool? You're gonna be filled with all kinds of jealousy!"

"No," sighed Germany, lifting regular weights like a chump. "Vat is it, America?"

"Why you gotta sound so annoyed? Screw you, it's awesome." I whipped it out. The Shake Weight, I mean. Not my … well, you know. Penis. "TA DA! The Shake Weight!"

All three stared backed like o_O

Ooh, it must be working! They're already in a trance and I hadn't even started using it yet!

I gripped the shaft and started pumping. I pumped hard, and it bounced up and down in my hands, making little shifty noises as it bobbed.

"Heh," I panted, because I was straining. "Pretty awesome, right?"

"Vat the hell …?" muttered Germany.

"This American exercise tool? !" exclaimed China. "You going to lose this year!"

"What, did it say that in your fortune cookie?" I asked sarcastically, still pumping furiously. "Because you can keep your damn commie cookie."

Mmm commie cookies …

SHIT, can't get distracted!

"You leave my fortune cookies alone!" said China. He was spotting Russia, who was benchpressing some weights old school style. "It looks like you very much need to. You no fool me! YOU GOT FAT. I see through sweatshirt!"

"W-what?" I said. "Pa-leeeease! It's all muscle. Please do try not to be so jealous of my totally sexy body, okay?"

"You lie! You fat!"

"I think I see it, too …" said Germany. He'd stopped lifting weights and was staring at my tummy. CRAP! They were supposed to be staring at my awesome Shake Weighting skillz! "A bit of flab, ja?"

"Noooooo!" I whined. "I didn't get fat, you guys! Gosh! Why won't you believe me?"

"Why not take off shirt and prove it?" asked Russia all creepily.

"UGH!" I exclaimed. "NO!"

"Ja," said Germany, turning his attention back to his weights. "He is most definitely lying."

"You want eggroll, America?" asked China, all smug and Chinese looking. "I know you like eating, fatty. I go make you eggroll. What else you want? Beef and broccoli? Sweet and sour chicken? General Tso's? I go make for you so you good and fat for Olympics!"

Oh, General Tso … I dunno what battle you fought in, but semper fi, dude. Semper fi. *SALUTE*

"Shut up, China. You can't tempt me! I have all kinds of willpower!"

Shhh, don't tell Nutella, you guys … he will be upset to hear this lie …

I was still pumping the Shake Weight pretty good. And yet, I wasn't putting them in a trance. What was wrong? They should be really enjoying this … watching my hands sliding up and down the shaft of the weight, watching my arms tighten and flex as I worked, watching the sweat bead on my forehead …

AM I RIGHT?

"Can I rub your Buddha belly for good luck?" asked China, then laughed at me all Chinesely.

"SHUT UP!" I snapped. "We can't all have little slim girl bodies like _some_ people!"

"Where you do your training? Golden Corral or Denny's? Ha ha ha!"

Damn stupid commie … making fun of me … and not even getting me those eggrolls! Yeah, I wanted them, I admit it. Dip them in some duck sauce, mmm yeah.

"America," said Germany. "That device only vorks your arm muscles. And probably not very vell. Vat have you been using to train the other muscles in your body?"

"Uh …" I hesitated. Crap. It'd be so long since I actually did any other exercise, I forgot what all the terms were. Oh well, I could wing it. "Oh, you know … doing the … squat thrusts. Uh, yeah. Squat thrusts. Lots of squat thrusting up at my house! What else, let's see … ooh, doing Tae Bo with that cool black guy! And, uh … Kegel exercises. Gotta do my Kegel exercises!"

"Isn't that for women?" asked Germany.

"Pfft, women? They can do the yoga and leave the real exercise to men. Real exercise like Kegel excercises."

"Da, men can do too. You should demonstrate Kegel exercise, America," said Russia, still staring hardcore.

"Uh … no."

His eyes were like staring into my soul. My sexy, muscular, totally working that weight up and down, soul. "Why not?" Seriously … he was like o_o

"B-because I'm doing the Shake Weight exercise now, duh! Come on, don't y'all think this is pretty amazing?"

"No," all three of them said at once.

"… SCREW YOU GUYS."

"I'm rather enjoying it."

We all looked over at once to the sound of the voice. It was England sitting on a bench not too far away. He was in his little short shorts again. At least, I think he was. Because he had a towel over his lap.

He smirked at me. "I really like your Shake Weight, America."

I hadn't realized I'd stopped pumping it. I started again, PUMP PUMP PUMP. "I thought you thought it was stupid?"

"Changed my mind. Now I think it's brilliant." His eyes flicked up and down my body. "Hmm, yes. Bloody brilliant."

"Tell that to them!" I pointed with the Shake Weight to the trio of douchenozzles.

"No thanks. I'd prefer to have this show all to myself anyway."

"England!" shouted China. "Why you leer when he got fat? ! You know he got fat, right? !"

"Ja," said Germany. "He probably had to get a bigger Bible Belt to hold in his expanding stomach."

"Oh, nice one, Germany!" said China. "How about this one? He has more Chins than my phonebook! Ha ha! You get it?"

"Hmm, yes, but I have heard that one before."

"Hehe," snickered Russia. "Now my turn for fat joke."

"NO!" I shouted. "All y'all shut up!"

"But I have good one about your Kegel—"

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT!"

Those guys were such JERKS! They really put the CUNT in COUNTRIES, jeez! Hehe, you like that one? I came up with that joke while at the hotel last night. After I was done with Nutella and had moved on to eating some Fruit by the Foot. Y'all remember that? Mmm, so good. It's hard to stop eating! I looked like I was doing a friggin' Lady and the Tramp impression, with all that long fruity stuff hanging out of my mouth. Slurping it like spaghetti, mmm yeah.

Wait a minute … I got distracted. By the foods. Back to the story!

"America …" said England, smirking for some reason. "Why don't you try slowing down for a minute, hmm?"

"Slowing down … what? The Shake Weight?"

"Yessss …" he practically hissed. "Do it … do it slow."

:I

"Um, you're weird." But I did it anyway. Slowed down my pace so that it was like PUMP … PUMP … PUMP … "What's the point of this? It's not as good a workout this way."

"Don't stop." England shifted weirdly on the bench. Like he was squirming under that towel.

I didn't plan on stopping until all my competitors were distracted. Put in a trance by the awe that is my awesome Shake Weight. But for some reason, only England seemed to be falling for this! Everyone else was teasing me!

"Yeah …" said England, taking a deep breath. "Just like that …"

"England," said Germany, "I don't think this is appropriate behavior for the host country."

"Yeah, you're not being a very good hostess, England!" I said.

"Let him make foolish mistake!" said China. "More medals for us! I know ancient Chinese secret about this."

Russia suddenly looked extra creepy. "You know ancient Chinese secret about hand pleasure?"

"No!" shouted China. "I know secret about training, performance, and restraint. I tell later when fatty and pervert not around."

"I believe I know what you're referring to," said Germany. "It's not an ancient Chinese secret — it's a scientific fact. My people practice this before the games as well."

"Mmm!" said Russia. "Mine too! Helps win."

"Whaaaa …?" I was listening this whole time and was completely lost! What secret are they talking about? If it helps me win more medals, I GOTTA know! I was listening and thinking so intently I lost my concentration on the Shake Weight. I was just sorta lazily, sloppily pumping it.

"Very vell," said Germany. "We shall not intervene if it increases our chances of vinning more medals."

"I say we encourage it!" said China. "Russia, help me take off shirt!"

So there I was. One minute I was pumping (slowly, half-assly) my Shake Weight, minding my own business, la la la. Then the next my Shake Weight hit the floor because I was being double-teamed by two friggin' commies. Russia and China each grabbed me at once and before I knew what was going on, they had pulled my sweatshirt up and over my head!

"Got it!" said China as he held up my shirt.

"So mushy!" said Russia as he poked at my now exposed belly.

WELL CRAP. Now everyone could see! They saw how I'd gained weight and now had a little pudge hanging over the elastic waistband of my fatpants - I mean sweatpants. SO EMBARASSING. I was so pissed that I punched the both of them for assaulting me like that. At the same time — one with each hand like FALCON PUNCH! ! because I am awesome like that. And they both hit the floor.

Then I remembered my modesty. LOL, yeah, that's a good word for it. And tried to cover myself with my hands. But I was much bigger than my hands so that didn't work so good …

I looked over to England. He was staring like O_O

"Looks like our job is done," said China, stumbling from the ground with a black eye.

Suddenly England jumped up and raced to the bathroom, still covering his lap with the towel. And I mean this was FAST! If he ran that fast during the Olympic dashes he'd surely win. Then SLAM! went the door.

"Mm!" said Russia happily, also prying himself from the floor with a jacked up, bruised face. "Job is done!"

"WHAT JOB? !" I shouted to them.

"… I am leaving now," said Germany.

"We follow!" said China. "Goodbye, fatty. "

Russia also followed behind Germany and China. He waved to me and it looked kinda silly. "Bye!" he called back to me.

And I was left, confused and sweaty and shirtless … and alone. I stood there just like WHAAAA …? as they walked off.

"England will perform poorly," said China as they crossed the room. "This Olympics will be easy to win as we clearly don't need to worry about fatty over there either."

Guys. I think I was 'fatty' :(

"Not unless handjobs become Olympic event!" laughed China.

"Actually," said Germany. "Judging from his technique, I do not believe he vould vin that either."

"Da!" agreed Russia. "SO ROUGH!"

"England is surely a pervert," said China.

All I wanted to do was work out and psyche out my Olympic competitors. Is that so bad? But nooooo! I get (sexually?) assaulted, left topless, and now people are talking about rough handjobs? ! And England is perving? !

I must have missed something because I was all kinds of confused.

X

I HAD to figure out what this ancient Chinese secret was, regardless of whether or not it was actually ancient or Chinese. So that night, I took it upon myself to do some research. I went and got Chinese take-out. Fun fact: In England instead of take-out they call it take-away. Which was funny to me, because that's what you call the opposite of addition, duh! The four kinds of math: multiplying, dividing, adding, and take-away. DUH!

Anyway, I got Chinese food because I wanted some of those fortune cookies. I hoped one of them would contain the secret they were all talking about! After all, it sounded pretty important. I wasn't gonna lose the Olympics just because I don't know some commie secret.

It was cool because even though I just ordered for myself they actually gave me THREE fortune cookies! I guess because I ordered three meals, but I was hungry so shut up.

I cracked open and read them as I ate. Which was annoying, because they only gave me chopsticks. Pfft, yeah, like I was gonna use those things. I shoveled the lo mein in my mouth with my hand like an American!

"Oh boy!" I said excitedly, opening the cookie with my other hand. "My first fortune!"

I was quite excited because not only might I learn the secret, but I love to do that thing where you read your fortune and then add "IN BED" to the end of it so it's sexy and funny. Hehe, you ever do that? It's so fun!

Here, I'll show you. This was my first fortune:

'_The key to full day's work is a full night's sleep'_ … IN BED! LOLOLOLOL!

… wait. Crap. That one didn't fit. Let's try the second one:

'_Learn Chinese: White Rice.'_ (Then there were some squiggles.) … IN BED! HAHAHA … ha ha … ha …

FFFFFFF- this wasn't working like it normally did! You gotta believe me! This was normally HILARIOUS!

But hmm. Learning Chinese WOULD help me figure out the secret. But I don't have time for that, the Olympics were only three days away. Plus I think that was offensive of them to call me 'White Rice' …

You know what pisses me off? So-called fortunes that aren't even fortunes but like little wise sayings. That's not a fortune. A fortune is when they predict something happening, like 'You WILL have good luck' or 'You WILL test positive.' You know, like that.

I sighed and opened the last fortune cookie. It said:

'_The phone will ring.'_

… in bed?

This really wasn't working :/

_RING RING!_

"WHAA!" I startled, spewing noodles out of my mouth. JEEZ, that scared me! Warn a guy, damn!

"Hello?" I said as I answered it.

"Americaaaa~" said a flamboyant voice. And I knew it was France.

" … how did you get my number?" I asked, deadpan.

"Oh, America," said France, all patronizing-like. "I am calling you as a favor. Please do have a happier tone to hear from me, yes?"

"No." I slurped up more noodles. "What favor are you talking about?"

"Ah … well, you see, I happened upon a curious object at ze gym today, you see."

Wait a minute …

"From afar, I assumed it be some sort of adult novelty toy," continued France. "But upon closer inspection, and much to my disappointment, I realized zis was not ze case. I asked around and was told zis strange thing belonged to you."

"My Shake Weight!" I exclaimed. "Aw crap, I left it at the gym! Please don't do anything weird with it!"

"My!" said France, all dramatically. "Just what do you think of me, America? If it doesn't belong to me, I surely would not do such a thing."

"Give it baaaaaaack! I need that to win the Olympics!"

"What, did zey include handjobs as an Olympic event zis year? HONHONHON!"

"Darn it! China said the same thing!"

"HONHON — oh? Then perhaps it's true … that would definitely be in my favor …"

"Eew."

"No one caresses le cock quite like yours truly! HONHONHON-"

"Hey, shut up for a minute," I interrupted. "I need to ask you something."

"Say no more," France said very quickly. "Yes, of course I will demonstrate for you!"

"What? NO." Probably should have given myself a better segue (Segway? LOL those things are cool as hell) than France describing a handjob. "It's about an Olympic secret. Maybe ancient Chinese. I dunno. But it involves my Shake Weight and England perving on me, apparently. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Haha," chuckled France. "I heard what happened to you today, America. What they were referring to is not a secret at all. I've known of the strategy for some time, zough I don't bother doing it myself."

"What is it? !" I demanded. "Dude, I gotta know!"

"Ah, let me think how to word it. Science isn't exactly my strong suit."

"… science? Was does that have to do with England eye-raping me?"

"It all starts with this wonderful substance called testosterone."

"Ooh!" I exclaimed. "That's the stuff my balls make, right?"

"Please, let me finish," said France. "It builds up and the more of it in you, ze more pent up you are. It makes you edgier, angrier, and more determined. It all adds up to being a better performer in any kind of physical activity – like sports, for instance …"

I kept eating even though we were talking about ball juices. "Uh huh …"

"When you – ah, you know, _release _— your testosterone levels drop, and you become more relaxed and complacent. Ze exact opposite of what is best for one about to play sports."

"I don't get it," I said, noodles hanging out of my mouth.

"It is common among athletes to withhold themselves a few days before a competition or game," he told me. "So that zey perform better."

"Withhold … what exactly …"

"Me, of course?" continued France, not even listening to me. "I cannot go zat long. I suppose that is why I do not perform so well in the Olympics sometimes." He sighed dramatically. "Such is the price to pay for daily ecstasy!"

"Wait a minute! Are you talking about jerking it? !"

"Or sex," said France with a little chuckle, and I realized how lame and lonely that made me sound that I automatically assumed masturbation instead of sex with someone else …

"Uh … right. Of course. I-I get some too, ya know. It's not like I'm a loser or something."

"Of course," said France, but like sarcastically.

"Hmm …" I said, rubbing my chin as I thought and accidentally rubbing soy sauce on my chin because I forgot I was using my hand to eat. "So if England cums shortly before the Olympics, he'll do a crappy job at them."

"Oui~" said France. "Zat is ze theory. Ze others were trying to force him into masturbating so zat exactly zat would happen. If you want to win, America, I suggest you keep your hand out of your pants. Ze Olympics are only three days away!"

"Three days …" CRAP! With all these distractions — traveling to England, training with the Shake Weight, eating all the food I packed — I'd forgotten to jack off since I'd gotten here! That was like … (I counted on my fingers …) four or five days! DAYS, you guys! Normally, I don't go that long but like I said … distractions. I'm already at my limit and now I gotta go THREE more days without having a whack at myself? ! I don't know if I can make it ..

"Yes, three days," said France. "Of course, it's over two weeks you must withhold yourself. As you must restrain for ze entire Olympic games."

OVER … TWO … WEEKS…

… I'm screwed :/

"What's wrong?" asked France when I didn't reply.

"I … I don't think I can last that long without jacking off."

"Well, surely you have all zat junk food to comfort you? Fill your mouth instead of ze other h—"

"SHUT UP I DON'T DO IT THAT WAY."

"Honhonhon …" he chuckled. "Whatever you say, America. Well, I must take my leave now. I have three English women in bed with me right now and they are eagerly awaiting for round two."

"… damn, dude."

"England _hates _it when I shag his women, ha ha! Au revoir, America!"

_Click._

It was when I was eating the Chinese doughnuts that another new amazing plan hit me. Oh, and by the way? They're not really doughnuts unless they got holes in them, FYI. Get it right, China. (You too, Germany. I've seen your Bavarian cream.)

If I got England to jerk it right before the Olympics, he'd lose! He apparently was getting off by watching me use the Shake Weight, I think, if that creepy pervy way he stared at me was any indication. I could just do that right before, he couldn't help himself, he'd wank himself and make his testosterone drop, and do a crap job during the games!

What an awesome plan!

Nutella agreed, and I snuggled with him, my hand still deep inside his jar, as we fell asleep on the hotel bed.

X

I had my plan in order. First, I had to get my Shake Weight back. I did that by meeting France at the gym. That went smoother than I thought it would, though he did smack me on the ass with it before he gave it back to me.

Secondly, I needed to find England. And be a total cock-tease. Not easy to do in sweats, but hey, I'm America. I can pull it off.

But there was a little snag in my plan. England didn't show up to the gym! I stuck around all day, but there was no sign of him. Lots of other countries, sure. A lot of them made comments to me too, as I used my Shake Weight off and on all day.

Sweden said "I d'd'nt kn'w h'ndj'bs w're in the Ol'mp'cs …" whatever that meant.

Spain watched and drooled and said, "ME GUSTA."

And Korea felt the need to say, "HANDJOBS ORIGINATED IN MEEEEEEE!"

Why the heck was everyone making fun of me? ! JEEZ!

I went back the next day, and still no England. More comments (what the hell is bukakke? Japan sure was acting weird that day!) but no England. Tomorrow was the Olympics and I wasn't gonna be able to tempt England into ruining his chances!

"What the hell is he up to?" I asked France that evening at the gym, all annoyed and pouty.

"I think he has heard the rumors," France told me. Yeesh, remind me not to see him in his training outfit again. His shorts were too short too, and I could see way too much body hair. Like a bush traveling down his thighs, ugh … "He's avoiding you. He knows of the practice, by ze way. He knows his chances are diminished if he ejaculates."

"But … but … I wanted to make him do it on purpose!" I pouted. "And tonight is the night before the first game! It's my last chance! WHAT DO?"

"I do not know. I suppose all you can do is make sure you at least restrain _yourself_ so that you have a bit of an edge."

Oh. God. Had that been hard. It was the longest I'd ever gone without beating off, aside from the time I got really really sick for like a week straight. No wait, I think I still did it then. And promptly vomited right after orgasm. So then I had TWO messes to clean up.

How had I made it this long, you wonder? It sure as hell wasn't easy. Cold showers help. So did putting the carton of ice cream on my crotch while I ate out of it. Actually, food really was a big help. Whenever I felt the need to touch myself, I just grabbed some Cheetos or Oreos or Twinkies and stuffed my face. Displacement for the win!

"I guess you're right," I told France. "I'm gonna go back to the hotel and not watch porn all night long."

"Try not to think of my face!" he yelled to me as I walked off. "Wouldn't want to tempt you!"

Ugh, please …

X

So there I was. The night before the Olympics. Alone at the hotel, just like I should be. Eating Lucky Charms out of the box, but only the marshmallow pieces because those other ones look like cat food.

I sighed. What a lonely night …

_RING RING._

"HELLO? !" I said way too excitedly as I picked it up.

"Yes, hello. I calling to give you information," said a voice that was clearly Russian. "It's me. Canada."

"Uh, no it's not," I said. "I can tell it's you, Russia. Quit screwing around."

"Tell him you're Canada!" I heard a Chinesey voice in the background say.

"I did," the other voice whispered back.

"What do you want, Russia?"

"Not Russia. I am Canada. Eh."

"Oh yeah? If you're Canada then …" I tried to think of something only Canada would know the answer to … "… then what's my favorite food, HUH?"

"… hamburgers?"

"Hmm," I said with nod. "Seems legit."

"See? I am Canada. Eh. And I calling to tell you where England is."

"OH?"

"Da — I mean, yes. Eh. He is at pool used for swimming matches."

Little late for swimming … but I guess if he's avoiding me that made sense to do at night …

"… in a Speedo," finished totally legit Canada. "I heard you have plan to tempt England. Good time to do it."

I sighed. "Canada … I did plan that, but … sitting here, eating colored marshmallows out of a box … well this isn't easy to say. But you're my brother, and I trust you, so I'm going to confide in you, okay? Please don't tell anyone what I'm about to say."

"Hehe. I won't."

I sighed again. "… I feel fat."

"You _are_ fat."

"SCREW YOU CANADA—"

"But doesn't matter. England doesn't mind."

"… you, you really think so? You still think I'm sexy enough to pull it off?"

"Hehe … yes. Do it. Eh."

"Say more 'more cushion for the pushin'!" said the Chinese voice in the background.

"More cushion for pushin'," said Canada.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I said defensively. "Come on, dude! I'm not gonna let him go _that_ far! What do you think I am, a whore? He's at least gotta take me out to dinner first, damn."

"Hehe. Of _course_ you want dinner, you fat capitalist p—"

"SHH DON'T GIVE US AWAY!" said the background voice that was definitely not being subtle.

"No, no," I said. "I will tempt him, and if that doesn't work, I'll jerk him off myself. But that's as far as I'm going!" I coughed and said quietly. "… without a proper date first, ahem."

"Hehe. Enjoy yourself, America. Eh."

"Umm … okay … bye …"

Just as I was about to hang up, I heard the voice in the background say, "Yes! Now they are _both_ going to be ruined."

Both? Psssh. I've gone this long without playing with myself, I can go a little bit longer.

Even if that night I was so horny that to keep from touching myself I had to eat Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby while taking a cold shower and thinking about the least unsexy things I possibly could like baseball and dead kittens and Hitler.

"Th-th-this is m-m-my F-final Solution!" I said as I shivered in the shower :'D

When I was finished, I put on my own Speedo (under my clothes, I'm not gonna go flaunting my extra lb's all over London) and headed to that pool.

I had me some testosterone to lower :D

X

I entered the doorway of that big ass room with the pool. IT WAS FUCKING HUGE. And it seemed empty, except for one person, swimming laps.

I watched for a minute, knowing it was England. I watched him until he finished whatever set he was doing, and headed for the ladder. He climbed up and walked over to where he'd set down his towel. He wiped himself off as he drank from a water bottle.

Oh damn. He really was in a Speedo. Hard to appreciate those things until you're faced with one up close, but they really do leave little to the imagination! Near about everything was bare: his arms, chest, stomach — SHIT IT'S FLAT. Toned, even. I'm gonna look like a total fatty next to him!

Where was I … oh yes. Talking about England's body. Anyway, that Speedo was hella tiny. It barely covered his crotch and was so tight I could see his peen bulge.

I mean, not that I was looking or whatever.

Well, it was now or never. There was no one else around. So I took a deep breath, grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt, and pulled it off. I dropped it to the floor. I should have taken my pants off too, but I was already so embarrassed (I was actually blushing, you guys!) so that's good enough for now.

"Hey, England," I said, stepping into view.

England sputtered around his water bottle. While he finally finished choking he said, "W-what the hell are you doing here? !"

"What, I can't train in the pool too? Gotta get my swimming on." I glanced at the water. Damnit I did not wanna have to take my pants off for this … I hoped I could do this without actually having to get in the water.

He took a nervous step back. "That's not why you're here, liar. I heard from Japan who heard from Greece who heard from Turkey who heard from Spain who heard from Romano who heard from Italy who heard from Germany who heard from China and Russia that you are planning to tempt me into a medal-costing wank!"

WHAT THE HELL! ! Why does everyone know about this? ! THOSE DAMN COMMIES! Such gossips, I swear! Couple of catty bitches, ugh.

I got nervous. So I just gave him a sheepish shrug and said, "What's a quick fap between friends?"

He glared back at me.

"Whaaaaat?" I asked defensively.

He sighed and looked away. "I'm surprised you came to me without your shirt on."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Well, you seemed to like that when China and Russia pulled it off before, soooo …"

"Hmm." That's all he said, still looking away.

"You really seemed to like the Shake Weight too." I took a step closer. "Like, A LOT."

He gave me a sideways glance. "You know what it looked like."

"Actually, I didn't until — whoa!" As I was talking, England suddenly poked me with one finger.

In the belly :/

"Damn," said England. "You really are out of shape."

I took a deep breath. "N-not THAT out of shape. Just a little!"

He hadn't pulled his finger away. "You're so mushy and soft …"

"You sure like touching it."

England was staring weirdly at my belly. But then suddenly he quickly pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. "Ahem!" he coughed. "Well, you aren't going to tempt me."

"No?" I asked. "Well, do you mind if I try anyway? It was a bitch getting all the way over here."

England glared back at me. He was dripping wet. It was making like a little puddle on the floor below him. "Of course I mind."

"You didn't seem to mind the Shake Weight." I brought my hands, cupping them together, in front of me, as if I was holding the Shake Weight. "Remember this?"

England almost took another step backward, but then he realized the pool was behind him, duh. He didn't reply.

"And this?" I slowly slid my hands up, then down, in a pumping motion. Sliding them along an invisible shaft. For reals this time. I wasn't miming the Shake Weight. Hehe, no. I'm totally trolling England. I was working it like it was a real penis! ;)

England huffed. "I know what you're trying to do."

"Did you know I was gonna do this next?" I pulled away one hand, but kept one moving. I stroked the air in the most penisy of shapes. Sliding up and down, pausing to tease at an invisible cockhead, then letting my finger slowly drag back down. And they kept going until they were cupping and rubbing a pair of invisible balls. I pretended I could feel the weight of them in my hand, then rolled them before letting my finger slip back up the entire imaginary shaft. I wonder if this is what ghost sex is like …

"Wha …!" startled England. "I thought you were just pretending to use your Shake Weight!"

I guess it did look pretty similar to an extent. But …

"Shake Weights don't have balls, England."

"I know that! It's just that I thought you were trying to tempt me before like back at the gym."

"I really wasn't trying to!" I said, stopping the pumping motion. "I really was just training at first! You're just a pervert!"

England nervously crossed his arms. It looks weird when you wear a Speedo. "_You're_ the one miming a handjob."

"I can mime more than that." I grinned and gave him a thumbs up. "I'm a great actor!" England barely had time to roll his eyes before that invisible cock was apparently closing in on my mouth. I know this angle doesn't make sense so please don't call me out on that, okay you guys? Just pretend the owner of the invisible penis is on a ladder or something. People do that, right? I mean, there's a kink for everything nowadays …

Anyway, I gripped with my thumb and fingers around the invisible shaft. I brought it close to my face. And opened wide.

You should have seen England's face when I swallowed up that imaginary cock! His jaw dropped like he was opening it for an invisible penis too, LOL!

I went to work on mine. Slowly dragging my tongue along the air, swirling it at the invisible tip, before dipping my head and pretending to take in all the inches at once. Deep throating is easy when nothing is really jabbing you in the back of the throat! But I made tiny whimpering noises like it was anyway. Slurping noises too. I pumped my hand in front of my face, bobbing my head and pretending to thoroughly throat fuck this lucky invisible penis.

Suddenly I pretended to slide it out it. Let it flop out of my mouth and I pretended to hold it in my hand as I pushed some spit out to run down my chin.

"I guess you liked the show," I said, eyeing the obvious bulge in England's Speedo. You can't hide a boner in a Speedo. That's as form fitting and penis squeezing as you can get!

England nervously glanced down and then back up. "I w-won't touch it," he said defensively. "Don't think you've won. I do have some self-control. I'll let it go anyway on its own."

"Yeah right," I said in a psssh-y way. "You're gonna go back to your hotel and fap all night long."

"I am _not!_" he shouted back.

"Yeah … you're right." I looked away all sneakily. "You won't last that long thinking about me. You'll fap for a couple minutes, cum in a balled up piece of hotel toilet paper, and then weep into your pillow about how it's not as good as the real thing."

"Don't be so cocky," he said ironically since _he_ was the one with the boner, not me. If anyone was COCKy it was him, am I right? (LOL penis jokes are so easy.)

I suppose if this wasn't enough to tempt him into giving in, I'd have to step things up a bit. I curled my fingers around the top of the waistband of my sweatpants.

England's eyebrows suddenly raised. "What are you doing?"

I tugged down the pants. But just a little. Just enough to show my hip bones. (And some more of my pudge … :/ ) I did it with this shy, innocent look on my face. Looking away like I was pretending to be modest. "Nooothing~"

England's eyes shot straight to my waist. He took a good look before sucking in a breath. It was full on boner time for him! I could tell with that Speedo. Full mast ahoy!

"You got hard so fast." I pulled my pants down more, exposing my thighs. My creamy, jiggly, cottage cheese looking thighs. Mmm. Cottage cheese …

"B-been a couple days," he replied nervously. "Since I … you know."

I kicked off the pants and they went flying across the room. "What, like two? Pffft!"

I mean, come one. It'd be way longer for ME! Imagine how _I _felt! I near about lost my damn mind in the hotel last night! All alone with easy access to hotel porn and plenty of little hotel lotions to make my junk smell good and yummy while I whacked it? It took all my willpower and Cool Ranch Doritos to resist myself!

That wasn't gonna be for nothing. I was gonna win this thing. One way or another!

So I reached and cupped England's bulge through his Speedo. He made a loud, hard gasping noise when I did that. I don't think he was expecting that. I didn't let go. Instead I palmed him through the … uh … whatever material bathing suits are made of. What am I, a scientist? Just use your imagination, you know what I mean anyway.

I slowly rubbed little circles with my palm. I felt his cock, warm even through the suit, twitch and stuff beneath me.

"Ahh …" England hissed. But then he forced himself to change his near-gasm face to a douchebag one. "I-it's amusing you think you can win so easily. You know it only counts if I ejaculate, right? Anything less actually works in my favor …"

"Oh, you'll cum." I stopped palming him to hook my fingers at the top of his Speedo. It was barely containing him. One quick tug and his hard cock flopped out heavily. I quickly gripped it and England gasped again. "You'll cum alright."

"I won't …" he said, but not in a way that I believed him. Hard to take someone seriously when they're so hard in your hand! And making a face like he was about to pop already. And shaking. Not like Shake Weight shaking, but like trembling. His legs were at least. I think he was going weak in the knees.

So it was super easy to push him to the floor! Before he knew what happened I'd forced him to the ground, where his back pressed into the puddle he'd left on the floor. I straddled over him, still firmly gripping his cock.

"Just try not to think about losing medals." I started pumping. Hard, fast strokes that made him arch his back. "Just think about how good it feels to be touched after going _soooo long_ without." That was sarcastic. LOL I almost lost it there. Two days. Bitch please.

"America …" he panted, suddenly looking me dead in the eye. My hand froze for a second when he did that, because it was weird and startled me, but then I picked up my pace again. "Tell me. I-if you're doing this for … ah! … more medals … does th-this mean you plan on wanking Russia and China as well?"

"WUT!" I exclaimed. "Eew, no way!"

"Th-they won more … m-medals than me at the last Olympics." England squeezed his eyes shut for a minute, arching up again, pressing himself harder into my hand.

I kept up my excellent fapping. "Yeah, so?"

"A-and Germany … he's a big competitor too …"

"Yeah I'm not doing him either … I don't get your point …"

He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye again. It kinda creeped me out … "So if I'm the only one you want to touch, does that mean you like me?"

For a second, it didn't sink in. I kept stroking him, quick tight strokes, you know the drill. Then the strokes gradually became slower … and slower … and slower. Until I suddenly pulled my hand away and went D:

Suddenly this seemed a little … gayer than I imagined.

"Heh," said England suddenly smirking. "What's wrong? Don't want to finish what you started?"

I looked down at my sticky hand. I never even thought about it like that … I mean, jeez. All I wanted to do when I first came here was train like a cool person with a new weight! And look where it got me! That Shake Weight is a gateway-gay thing, I swear …

"Umm …" was all I said as I looked back to him.

"It's alright," said England. He reached down and gripped his own cock. "I'll finish it myself."

:O

"But … your medals …"

"Shhh …" England grabbed me by my hair and pulled me down. I caught myself on my hands, so then I was hovering above him on all fours. "Isn't that what you want? Me to lose?"

I looked down awkwardly at him. "Well … yeah … but …"

He stroked himself below me. Even faster and harder than I had been doing. Weird … _I _was the one who used a Shake Weight all the time. I should be better at handjobs than him, right? … oh, who am I kidding. This was England. That guy wanks as often as he drinks tea. And probably sometimes at the same time. (I can't imagine that'd be easy. Imagine spilling it and scalding your dick! YIKERS)

"And you should … take even more pride …" panted England, breathing all crazy. "In the fact … that … unf … i-it was you who made me do it. Since apparently … I'm your _favorite_ competitor …" He smirked all dickishly when he said that.

GRRRR! DAMN IT! Now was not the time for any latent homosexual romantic feelings to come out! This was the OLYMPICS! Time for running and swimming and jumping — not stepping out of the closet into the arms of a guy that, well, sure, I mean I certainly cared a lot about him … we have so much history (LITERALLY LOL) and well—

FUCK. What the hell was I saying? ! This was an even bigger distraction than food! Come on, America, concentrate …

"That really turns me on," England said quickly, desperately, all in one breath.

"… uh …"

Suddenly, as he continued fapping, he arched up, whimpering and squeezing his eyes shut. I was gonna climb off of him but with his other hand, he ran his finger down my chest and across my stomach. It felt weird … he did it really lightly, just with the one finger, and it was kinda ticklish. Then he quickly pulled it away and moaned. Moaned loud and long … his eyes rolling back in his head … and I felt something hot splash against my belly.

D:

He trembled as he rode out the orgasm, saying my name over and over and over, and I just froze there in shock because I couldn't believe he just came on me. I was like … in a trance, or something. I didn't snap out of it until he was finished, and he slumped slack against the floor.

I shook myself and looked down him, trying to catch his breath. "Wow," I said, all kinds of confused. "You just screwed yourself. I meant for the Olympics, but like, literally too."

"It's okay …" he panted now with a dopey gasm grin.

"What happened to you saying you wouldn't cum, hmm? You liar. You LOST! Just like you're gonna lose a ton of events, HAHA!"

He looked up at me with a smirk. "It's okay," he said again. "Because I'm gonna make it even."

"What the heck are you talking abou-THAT'SMYPENIS!" I interrupted myself and shrieked the words. Because England was suddenly cupping _me _through _my_ Speedo.

"I suppose you do like me," he said, rubbing his fingers against me. "Or at least _this _part of you does."

For those of you who are slow with the context clues, that meant that I had a boner :I

"Oops." I shrugged sheepishly. "How did that get there!"

"Stop playing dumb … you know why …" His fingers moved to the top of my Speedo. I was about to go NO WAIT but then something weird happened. He barely touched it, and suddenly it POPPED! Like it BROKE!

… now look. Yes, I put on some weight. Yes, I could barely squeeze my ass into that suit. And yes, a boner put some extra pressure on the material. But still. ENGLAND BROKE MY SPEEDO!

It popped right off and onto the floor!

Even England looked surprised. "Wow … that was easy," he said with a chuckle.

"MY BATHING SUIT!" I yelled. "Dude, you broke it! JEEZ!"

"Oh, calm down. They'll give you another."

Wait a minute. I'm hanging out with my wang out and I'm worried about my BATHING SUIT? ! There was something else very wrong about this situation! !

Suddenly England sat up, and I felt his hand on my chest. "I'm going to return the favor, alright?"

"Psssh, yeah right." Why was he pushing on my chest like that … "Like you could get me to cum."

"I can," he said, and pressed harder, and somehow, I don't even know how, but I was on my back. He climbed on top of me, grabbing my cock first almost like he was using it for leverage. He straddled over me, smirking his normal Britishy smirk, and started to beat me off.

"Nuh uh. All I gotta do is think up unsexy things and it won't work."

Damn England really knew how to use his fingers! They moved so … swiftly, expertly … like he'd done this a million times. (To himself, am I right? LOL.)

"That's what I thought I could do." England tightened his hold, practically squeezing my cock as he pumped, and I squirmed from the pressure. "But apparently I was wrong."

"Heh …" I panted. "You know I can kick your ass, right? You saw what I did to Russia and China. FALCON PUNCH RIGHT IN THE HEAD! … what makes you think I won't do it to you for sexually molesting me like this?"

"But you won't." England leaned in closer, almost laying his head on my chest. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"You already let me push you down and start wanking you." He paused to lick up my chest, leaving behind a spit trail. "Without any resistance."

… DAMN IT.

"I-it just happened so fast!" I said defensively.

"And you're still not pushing me off."

"Well … that's … um …"

He smirked. "I'm really beginning to think you like me, America. What a privilege it is to see you like this."

What was 'this' you wonder? Perhaps I shouldn't have left out how red my face had become, or how hard I was breathing, or the little whimpering noises I was making in time with England's strokes, or how I was already leaking precum—

CRAP THIS WAS ALL BECAUSE I'D GONE SO LONG WITHOUT A WHACK AT MYSELF! Damn you distractions and self-restraint … what a fine, sticky, sweaty mess you've gotten me into …

England's fingers slowed, stopped at the tip of my cock and teased. When he heard me make a noise (like a whiney eeee!) he chuckled and stroked down my shaft. They went all the way down, back to the base, then to my balls. He cupped them, hard and uncomfortably tight. I squirmed and he rolled them in his hand.

"You're close," said England.

"You wish."

England's fingers slid lower, and suddenly I felt pressure in my — WHAT THE

"HEY!" I shouted, suddenly jerking up. But he pushed me back down. "Get your finger outta there!"

"Shhhh," he hushed. His finger slid out and rubbed circles, like soothingly, along the outside of my entrance. "Just relax."

"Nuh uh! You ain't doing that!" I squirmed but he was pressed pretty solidly on me. "I mean, come on, dude! You haven't even taken me to dinner first!"

"Tch." England pulled back his hand. He moved it to my belly and squeezed. He squeezed my fat :/ "Like you need any more dinners."

"It's the principal!"

"Heh." England's fingers swirled on my stomach. Crap. I forgot he jizzed all over it. He gathered some of his cum on his fingers. And damn was it quite a load! Though that's what happens when you go a while without getting off …

Anyway. He rubbed the sticky jizz in his fingers, then spread them, and they were still connected by like little webbings of cum.

"But I'll treat you anyway," said England.

"YEAH? !" I asked excitedly. Because yay! Food! I love me some food. In fact, I was pretty hungry, even though I'd already eaten a crap ton. But it was time for Fourth Meal. "Sweet because I could totally go for a Taco Bell Cheesy Gordita Crunch— MMMPH HEY!"

What England was feeding me was definitely not food.

But he caught me off guard while my mouth was open from talking. And slid two cum-covered fingers inside.

"MMMMPH!" I whined, his fingers still in there.

I felt him push a good portion of his wad in. Tears were gathering at the corners of my eyes but he didn't care. He slid those fingers out and held my jaw shut.

"Swallow," he demanded.

I wanted to breathe, so I did. It was a loud GULP.

England pulled his hand away. "Heh. Still hungry?"

I shook my head no.

"Good."

I hope he didn't think that counted as dinner. I should have a proper date if he wants to go all the way!

I was gonna tell him that, but his fingers were back in my ass. Yes, fingers, with an s, because now there were two. He pushed and pulled them out roughly, now slicked with his cum and my spit.

Now I know what you're thinking. 'AMERICA WHY ARE YOU LETTING HIM DO THAT? !' Well, boys and girls, I shall tell you. Because there is a good explanation. Even though you are probably not even wondering that — you're probably rooting for England like "Yeah England get'im good!" you pervert.

But the reason was that I figured that if England fingered me, that meant he wanted to put it in. And you know what that means? He'll cum _again_. My plan will have succeeded TWICE! He'll be doubly drained. And all I gotta do is resist orgasm, and I'll be in tip top shape to perform at the Olympics tomorrow.

… even though that meant letting him do me without buying me dinner first. Which was total crap, but sometimes you just gotta take one for the team. In the ass.

I lifted my head to see and sure enough, he was hard as a rock. Again. Wow, that was fast!

England's fingers scraped against my prostate and I suddenly jerked. "AHH!" I yelped. I honestly didn't think he'd find it …

England chuckled and dug his fingers in harder. He grinded them against that spot, jabbing me over and over. I felt my cock twitch so I had no choice but to shove him.

… because that was a close call.

England caught himself when I shoved him off. He didn't go far and eagerly climb back on top. "You're so close."

"Am not!"

He gripped his cock. "Then you wouldn't mind if I went a bit further?"

"Um, whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Not like it'll work anyway."

"I'm still going to try."

With those words I felt an incredible pressure. In my ass. England pushed himself in, fully, until he was completely balls deep. I squirmed and squeaked under him. I should have punched him, but like I said, I needed to get him off again for my master plan.

England started to rock against me. "You were seconds away from cumming … shall we pick up where we last left off?"

Now I had a plan. My plan was let England have his fun and cum — while making sure _I _didn't. You know. The whole testosterone thing. Simple enough, right? All I had to do was think unsexy thoughts while he banged me. So while he thrusted away, I was thinking up the least sexy things I could, like Wilford Brimley making out with Rush Limbaugh, getting his moustache all wet and soggy like soggy oatmeal …

That was my attempt. I thought on it for a minute or two before my mind wandered back. To England. Pounding me in the ass. And he was being pretty rough about it too. This was obviously some desperate 'I haven't got any in a while' kinda thrusting. Which was all well and good, since I figured that meant he'd cum pretty fast again.

What I _didn't_ account for in my brilliant plan was that it had been even longer since I last got off. Longer than England. It'd been two days for him _— several_ for me. A guy can only go so long! Then we gotta relieve the pressure, ya know?

I remember the last time I did it. It was back at my own home. I'd just finished watching Jeopardy and was feeling kinda lonely. Because I'd been shouting out the answers I knew so proudly yet I was by myself and no one was around to hear it. I got bummed and decided it was time to make myself feel better. So I called Domino's pizza and placed an order, then once I hung up the phone, I got my lotion and jacked off. In my beanbag chair. When I finished my pizzas and Cinnastix were there and I ate and ate and ate until I was so full it was painful. Then I fell asleep.

Speaking of being so full it was painful …

England had me squirming underneath him. I just wanted him to hurry up and finish. But he was so damn determined for something. The way he was staring into my eyes as he thrusted into me was totally creeping me out …

Then the unthinkable happened.

Oh please. Why did I say unthinkable? I'm sure you thought of it. Yep, just as you guessed, England struck just the right spot just the right way. And I yelped.

My hand covered my mouth really quickly, but it was too late. England had heard and he looked so dickishly triumphant when he saw that look on my face.

"You like it _here?_" he asked, giving a good hard thrust to the same spot.

"Nnn!" I whined. "I-I mean, NO! Whatever gave you that idea?"

"That very interesting sound you made." He bucked into that place again, and I whimpered like a baby. "_Oh_. That was a good noise too."

"N-not from pleasure," I managed to say. "You're hurting me."

"Liar." He glanced to my cock then back to my face. "You're leaking more pre-cum … I can tell you're close …"

"Nooooo," I whined. "ooo ….. OHHHHHH …" It sorta just turned into a moan … somehow … "… urgh …"

"So fast," said England. "It's been a while for you too, hasn't it?"

I tried to pull up that mental image of those two old fat dudes making out again, but I couldn't. England repeatedly pounding me in the prostate (after DAYS of not getting off at all!) was just too much. Even Wilford Brimley and his delicious oatmeal couldn't save me now …

I came so hard.

It just sorta … happened. England kept thrusting away and I just kept cumming. It was a huge load! But that's because I went so long without fapping. I whimpered something desperately about oatmeal as the last of it emptied out of me.

When it was over I just sorta collapsed. God. Damn. I hadn't cum like that in forever. The first jizz after a break is the best, isn't it? Like a double rainbow, the orgasm is SO INTENSE.

I lay there, panting, in a total gasm haze. I could see England through it, still above me. But then I saw him climb off. And of course, I FELT it too. I felt his hard cock slide out of me.

I quickly sat up. I didn't think he came. I glanced down and saw nothing white dripping out of my asshole. Nor was there a threat of cum connecting his cock to my ass. Nothing. He just pulled out.

… and stood up. To put his bathing suit back on.

"The hell?" I asked. "Aren't you going to finish?"

"No," he said all slyly. "This is part of _my_ plan."

"… huh?"

"Your several-day streak is ruined," he said all smugly. "And now I'm left desperate and horny … and full of pent up testosterone. It may not be as good as going days without, but it's certainly better than _your_ current state." His eyes flicked up and down at my body. All sweaty and sticky and wet with my own cum. "Completely and utterly _sated._"

"No!" I shouted. "Noooo, you made my plan backfire!"

"Good luck at the games tomorrow," he said with a wink. Then he turned around, and I watched his ass as he left. "You'll need it."

FFFFFFFFFFUUU—

X

THE NEXT DAY AT THE GAMES YOU GUYS

There I was. Waiting on the sidelines for my turn at the diving board. YES, DIVING. Of all the competitions, jeez! Everyone was gonna see my chubby self.

I sighed, still wearing clothes over my bathing suit. "You're up next," said some Olympic guy.

"Okey."

Just then, I saw England and France talking to each other, also on the sidelines. England had a weird look on his face, so I decided to spy on them.

I crept up behind and listened in:

"I had such an _amazing _dream last night," said England.

"Oh?" said France. "A sexy dream?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," England replied with a smirk.

"Do tell."

"It didn't have a beginning, like how dreams usually don't. It just opened straight up with me, sitting in a chair, a cup of tea in one hand and a crumpet in the other, with America on his knees below sucking me off properly."

"My goodness!" exclaimed France. "So much at once."

"A proper gentlemen can enjoy his tea and crumpets whilst enjoying a good mouth fucking."

"I want more details …" said France. "HONHONHON."

England licked his lips and said, "He was on his knees and I didn't have to do any work. He licked and sucked and bobbed his head so absolutely _perfectly._ You know how dreams are — ideals. His tongue and lips were so _enthusiastic. _Just swallowing up my cock like they physically craved it and couldn't get enough. Like I was all that junk food he devours constantly. He worked it all – the shaft, that vein along it, the head, and oh god even the balls. And, oh, when he deep throated me — taking in every centimeter up to the hilt, my balls slapping hard against his chin, not even making him make a sound let alone gag — Christ. It was just too much."

"What do you mean?"

"… I don't think I'm going to do so well in the games for a few days. This turned into a wet dream."

"HONHONHON."

"When he deep throated me like that, I was done. I came all over my sheets. I couldn't help it."

"So much for your plan, hmm?"

"Hmm," England sighed.

Then I eagerly pushed myself in between them. It was my turn and I didn't even care anymore — my clothes were off and the only thing I wore was that tiny Speedo.

"Cool dream, England!" I said excitedly.

"Wha …!" England startled. "You heard that? !"

"Yep! Isn't it obvious?" I made a very obvious glance down, and both of them looked down with me. At my very obvious erection. Speedos are dead giveaways for boners!

"Th-that … is from listening to my dream?" asked England, pointing to my boner.

"Yep! Now if you'll excuse me. I got some medals to win."

I pushed past them like a boss, and proudly marched my way to the diving board. The whole world could see my boner. And it was glorious.

(The end!)


End file.
